Weird Questions
by DeliverUsFromEvie
Summary: Stan may not have known what the kid's deal was, but he was an alright help around the shack and it sure made busywork a lot less grueling when he wasn't the one doing it.


Really, the only requirements he'd asked for in an employee were 1: _Don't ask a lot of questions_, and 2: _Don't need a lot of money._

Stan had begun to wonder if he'd misjudged, as this kid sure asked a whole lot of questions. They weren't suspicious, _he's-onto-me_ questions, by any means, but they sure were _weird _ones. Ones that got all deep, and personal and all that _weird_ stuff. Stan may not have known what the kid's deal was, but he was an alright help around the shack and it sure made busywork a lot less grueling when he wasn't the one doing it.

Just like any other day, the kid was at it again, asking those _weird _questions. "Mr. Pines, d'ya have any kids?"

Stan lifted his head from the inventory clipboard and gave the boy a mildly disturbed look. "No. At least, not as far as I know. No. That's weird. That's a weird question. Why do you ask so many weird questions, kid?"

Eyes reflecting innocence at its purest, the boy merely shrugged. "I was just wonderin'. You're just so old and so fatherly to me and all, I figured you might."

Stan was growing more perplexed by this kid by the second. "Old? Fatherly to you?..._Old_?!"

"Didn't ya ever _want_ kids, Mr. Pines?" Soos continued on obliviously, swishing a mop along the gift shop floor almost enthusiastically.

"Um. No. Kids are annoying. They're greedy little freeloaders that take up of all your time and your money."

The twelve-year-old boy tilted his head, and Stan found it mildly reminiscent of a beaver-toothed puppy. "Is that what I do to you?"

"Annoy me? Yes. Very much so. Ehh," Stan shrugged, "But kids are better at your age. Then they're actually _useful_ and you can put 'em to work. Once they're old enough to not cry all day and poop themselves, then they're less of a horrible menace to society."

It had certainly while since Soos had done either of those things; therefore, he couldn't disagree. "I see." He nodded. "Are all dudes like that?"

"Are all dudes like what?"

"Like _that_. Do all dudes not like kids until they're my age?"

Stan knitted his eyebrows, flipping pages on his clipboard. "Sheesh, I don't know, kid! Why don't you go out and take a poll or something. Later, I mean, not on your work hours. Quit asking me so many weird questions."

"I was just wonderin'," Soos said again, just as nonchalantly as he had before, unperturbed by Stan's frustrations. "'Cuz, you know. I've never known my dad, growing up. I don't think he ever really liked me, I guess. And like I say, Mr. Pines, you've always been like a father figure to me, y'know."

"Soos, you've been working for me for three months."

"I know," the boy rested his arms on the top of the mop pole, "I like it here, Mr. Pines. I feel like...like I'm gonna work here for a long time. I hope I do."

"As long as you don't screw up," Stan muttered. "And if you _stop asking me so many weird questions_."

"Sorry," Soos bit his lip sheepishly, sliding his hands down and dunking the mop into the sudsy water bucket again. "But this is really neat, you know. Three months is longer than _anyone's_ ever put up with me before!...That is, of course, excluding my abuelita."

"Well, kid, that's all very nice _and_ somewhat disconcerting. Did you get that corner over there?" Stan voiced flatly, gesturing to a very far corner of the gift shop.

"I was gonna get there," Soos answered efficiently, but then his expression quickly switched to one of nervousness. "Uhh, wait. Before I do, though, I...I just have one more question. I don't know if it's weird. Aw, geez, I know you just told me not to ask those. Aw, man...this might be a weird question, Mr. Pines."

"Just ask it," Stan slapped his forehead.

"Do you like me?"

The old man grumbled, quite irritably. "What'dya mean, kid?"

"I mean, do you like me?" the boy repeated, looking at him curiously with big wide eyes, which only served to make Stan feel more uncomfortable. "As a person, you know?"

Stan narrowed his eyes dubiously, glancing up at the ceiling. "Uh...sure, you're...a decent worker, I guess. You're...you're good at what you do, kid."

Soos beamed, baring his toothy grin. "Ya really mean that, Mr. Pines?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Well gee, thanks," the kid blushed, swishing the mop toward himself. "You're the best boss I've ever had, Mr. Pines. Actually, technically, you're the only one I've ever had. But you're definitely the _best _only one."

"Of course I am," Stan replied dismissively. "Now I'm pretty sure you missed a spot over there."

"Did I?" Soos glanced around frantically. "Don't worry, I'll get it."

The boy spun himself around, wielding his mop in the air and, upon doing so, knocked over the mop bucket, spilling the mucky, sudsy water all over the floor.

"Oh, geez! Don't worry, Mr. Pines, I can fix this," Soos declared seriously and began mopping furiously at the spilled puddle, although he only really succeeded in spreading the puddle out even further. "I can fix this. I can fix this. _Ahh, it's really slippery_! I can fix this."

Stan merely pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away, pondering to himself how much longer he'd be able to put up with this kid. He turned back only to witness the boy losing his footing and falling belly-up in the water, causing it to splash everywhere.

"_I'm alright_!" Soos insisted, and chuckled quietly to himself. "Wow, was I was right about it being slippery."

Not long, Stan figured.

* * *

_A/N: This is approximately the fanfic equivalent of me dipping my toe into the water that is the Gravity Falls section. While this isn't too much of an actual story and more of just a weird drabble thing, I do have quite a few ideas in my brain for future things. I can't say if there's anything to expect, except maybe a lot of Soos, as I am a big Soos fan. In any case, thanks for reading and gooood night, folks._


End file.
